Fear of sexuality is the new, disease-sponsored register of the universe of fear in which everyone now lives.

For those who live neither with religious consolations about death nor with a sense of death (or of anything else) as natural, death is the obscene mystery, the ultimate affront, the thing that cannot be controlled. It can only be denied.

Despite the illusion of giving understanding, what seeing through photographs really invites is an acquisitive relation to the world that nourishes aesthetic awareness and promotes emotional detachment.

The really important thing is not to reject anything.

Standing alone, photographs promise an understanding they cannot deliver. In the company of words, they take on meaning, but they slough off one meaning and take on another with alarming ease.

Writing is a little door. Some fantasies, like big pieces of furniture, won’t come through.

The photographer both loots and preserves, denounces and consecrates.